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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Science / Science Fiction
- Published: 02/28/2023
Murders at Midnight
Born 1957, F, from Mesick Michigan, United States“What the hell!” Michael Conrad mumbles as he rouses himself awake. He's drenched in a cold sweat and covered in blood. In his left hand he clutches a bloody six-inch knife. Instinctively dropping it, he jumps out of bed shaking his head staring at the knife. “How in the f.......!”
Working as a forensic investigator he knows enough to bag all the evidence. He goes to the kitchen to grab a garbage bag as he continues his self-talk. “All the windows and doors were locked last night. I'm sure of it.” He says as he checks each and every window and door. He's in the habit of this routine. His life has been threatened twice by some no good thugs. Testifying against them in court for murders committed because of their involvement as accomplices. “Everything's locked. How in the hell did the intruder get in and not set off the alarm?” He questions. Grabbing the bag and heading back to the bedroom he deposits the bloody objects. He quickly showers and dresses. No time for breakfast. He's not hungry anyway. Grabbing the bag and throwing it in the trunk he heads for the forensics lab.
At 12:40 in the morning the lab is absent of any activity. Good time for him to do his own testing and research. He spends hours running analysis on the blood covered knife and clothes. He runs the findings through every data base provided to him. Nothing. One good thing the blood is not his. But then whose blood, is it?
It's now 4:30. Forensic lab technicians and laboratory analyst start arriving at 5:00. He must act as if nothing is wrong. Putting on his lab coat he heads to his department. It's an uneventful day. Same tedious work. Except for his research of course.
Once home from a very stressful day brought on by his own stressors, he throws a TV dinner in the mic and grabs a beer. Running threw his mind the evenings and days events he's at a standstill as to what has recently happened.
He pops into the corner 7-11 and grabs a strong black Colombian Roast heavy cream. The night is cool and crisp. Not many people roaming at 11:55 in the late evening but he felt like he needed a walk. As he continues down a dimly lit sidewalk, he stops stone cold in his tracks. A figure bundled up in a long mink type coat is strolling the pavement. Suddenly out of nowhere a dark sedan, squeals up next to the curb. A person dressed in black from hat to shoes slowly exits the vehicle, he grabs the girl.
She screams.
“Hey! Stop! Leave that woman alone! he bellows as he runs to her. In his process of movement, he can't reach her in time. He watches as a shiny object is rammed into her chest. The man quickly departs back in the car and the driver speeds away, burning rubber as it makes a sharp turn around the corner.
Reaching the woman, he crouches down on his knees. The woman in her twenties is bleeding profusely. Her breathing is labored. The knife is protruding from her heart. “Don't pull it out.” He whispers to himself.
“Help me, please.” A voice barely audible escapes her lips.
There's a hospital four blocks from here, he's got to get her there fast. Picking her up and caring her he sprints as fast as he possibly can. Out of breath and exhausted he arrives at the automatic sliding glass doors of the hospital. Looking through the glass he notices there's no one around. There's a couple of wheelchairs lined in the hall. If he can get her to a chair and quickly leave without being noticed someone will come to her aid. He can't bring attention to himself. All the evidence will point to him. He must do this and do it fast. Walking to the doors, they quickly slide open. Stepping through he carefully places her in one of the unoccupied chairs. Turning and heading back for the doors, he hears, “Stop sir! You must check the patient in! Sir, wait!” That's the last he hears as he slips into the darkness. He dares not bring attention to himself. Once out of sight he glances back at the girl. The knife. Where's the knife? It's gone. The girl is lying on the floor face up. No one is around. The voice in his head tells him run. He runs. And fast.
Brrrring! Brrrrring! Michael is startled awake by the blaring of his alarm clock only to be drenched in blood and sweat. The bloody knife plastered in his hand.
Not again. Now his head is spinning. For a second time he bags the evidence, showers. Throws the bag in the trunk. He heads back inside and pours himself a triple shot of Bourbon. “I need this.” He mumbles.
In the car he drives absent minded. Thinking only of the past forty-eight hours. He's got to figure this mess out. There must be an explanation, He just hasn't found it yet, but he will. He needs help to find out what is going on.
Back at the lab he corners his best friend and co-worker Brian.
“Hey, man, want to stop at Bernie's for pizza and some brew?”
“Sure, meet up with you after work.”
They both head to their separate labs to finish out their day.
Michael orders pizza and a pitcher of beer before Brian arrives.
“Hey, man I need your help.”
“What's up dude?”
“We need to talk.”
“Hey, alright man.”
“I've got to tell you something, but you can't tell anyone.”
“Promise dude. Bring it on.”
Michael reveals to his friend everything that has happened.
“Wow, so you're saying you wake up with blood on your clothes holding a bloody knife?”
Michael guzzles down a mug of cold brew. “That's what I'm saying man. I don't remember any of it. The knife, the blood, it's all a mystery to me. This is the second night it's happened. Yesterday I took the bloody stuff to the forensic lab when no one was around and ran some tests. One thing I know for sure is the blood is not mine. So, what the hell happened man? Did I kill someone and don't remember it?”
“No, Mike. I know you too well. You couldn't kill anyone.”
“Then explain it to me!”
“Give me everything. I have access to a special department unknown to many including you. I will run some more extensive tests. We'll find an answer. I promise you.”
“Not sure what else you can do. I ran it through everything known in our data base and came up blank. No recent Jane or John Does. No reports of recent murders.”
“Let's enjoy the pizza and beer. I'll take care of it.”
Both men were feeling pretty tipsy when they left the bar. In the parking lot they gripped their shaking hands, pulled themselves to each other and gave each other a slap on the shoulder.
“It'll be all right dude.” Brian slurred.
“See you in the morning man.”
Once home Michael, too wasted and dog-tired to do anything else, stripped out of his clothes, hit the pillow and passed out.
Walking into the all-night cafe' he has his choice of tables. The place is empty of patrons at 11:55 except for one old man at the corner booth. He chooses a table in front of the window.
“Hi mister. What can I get for you?”
“Bring me a mug of your strongest coffee with double cream and a Tuna on Rye.”
“Chips or fries?”
“Ah, give me some fries.”
“Coming up shortly sir.”
“Thanks mam.”
With nothing in particular on his mind he looks out into the vast darkness only dimly lit by the amber lights from the lampposts lining the streets. An ambulance blares its siren as it speeds down the road and abruptly turns the corner. It's siren instantly stops but lights can still be seen flashing. He watches as an old homeless drunk staggers down the concrete path. Swiftly out of nowhere a dark sedan pulls to a halt next to the curb. Anticipating what might happen next, he's already out the door and walking towards the old man. Pure shock strikes him as he sees a man in black step out of the car holding something in his hands. He raises his arms above his head and comes down hard striking the drunk with something. The old man falls to the ground.
“Hey!” He hollers.
The man in black turns and waves then quickly gets in the car and they speed off.
When he gets to the man his body is lifeless but he's still alive. The knife just missed his juggler vein.
“Help me. I can't breathe.”
“Who was that?”
The old man shakes his head. “Help me.”
How in the hell am I going to help him out here? He questions. Looking up and sees that the ambulance is still close by. Quickly he runs to the corner. Oh, great the ambulance is parked on the side of the road. There's a gurney on the sidewalk. Obviously awaiting its patient. Well, news to them. They're going to have a different patient.
He runs back to the old man. Half carrying, half dragging the homeless man to the awaiting gurney. Hoisting him up he flops him down hard on the hard surface. Knife sticking out of his neck. He checks for a pulse and breathing. There is none. He's dead. I'm out of here.
Michael wakes just as his alarm begins to sound Brrri.
“No! Damn! This has to stop! Blood again covers everything. And again, he's holding a blood-soaked knife.
“Here Comes the Sun,” Michael's phone rings out the words to a Beatle's song which brings him out of la la land.
“Hey, Michael its Brian. Call in sick and meet me at my apartment. I have some information. We gotta talk now.”
No time to bag anything. For some reason he doesn't think it matters anyway. He takes a hot shower to relax his muscles. He's not sure why he hurts so much. He hasn't been to the gym in months. Maybe that's why.
Brian met him at the door with a beer. “You're going to need this.”
“What's up man?”
“You might want to sit down. Because you're not going to believe it. But you have to.
“Remember when I said I have access to things no one else does?'
“Ya, sure.”
“Well, I found something. Hold on to your hat.”
“Come on man, quit stalling. Give it to me straight.”
“The murders that are occurring are happening while you are sleeping. You are witnessing them. He has invaded your dreams.”
“Who's he? How can he do that? It's impossible.”
“The man you see in your dreams is he wearing black?”
“Ya, he's dressed in all black. Like a black shadow.”
“That's what I thought. He's known as The Dark Slayer. He kills at random. He lives in the dream realm. He has invited you in. He wants you dead because you've witnessed his killings. Anyone who tries to stop him or help his victims will die. He will wait for you until your next dream.”
“How do you know about him?”
“Dr. Ashinoff specializes in dream analysis. He is the only one who has seen first-hand the dreamer in the dream realm. He has also witnessed the killing of the dreamer by the Dark Slayer. The dreamer dies in his sleep but is murdered in his dream. I know this is very confusing. It's a lot to take in right now. No one has been able to kill him in his realm before they are killed.”
“Holy shit! Why me?”
“We don't know. All we know is that you must kill him in the dream realm. Whatever you do, don't wake up while you're killing him.”
“Dumb question, what happens if I wake up?”
“Don't know. But I don't have a good feeling about it.”
“What if I say no?”
“You can't say no. He's in your dreams and you're in his dream realm. Nothing will change until he's dead. You must kill him at exactly midnight. That's the time he kills his victims. One of you will die at midnight.”
“Damn.”
That night sleep didn't come easy for two reasons. One, he didn't want to sleep. Two, he had too much on his mind to sleep. But eventually the sandman came. Last he looked at the clock was 11:45.
“So, Michael, you think you can take me on and succeed. Think again.” A voice echoes. The Dark Slayer announces his presence.
Michael finds himself standing in the middle of the street clutching a six-inch blade knife standing thirty yards from the killer. Slowly he feels himself being drawn to him. He tries to retreat but can't. Now he's standing within a few feet of him.
“Anytime you're ready Michael. Show me what you've got. I'll let you take the first lunge; it will be your last.”
“NOOOOO!” Lunging forward he strikes the Slayer in the arm.
“Very good, Michael.”
The Slayer retaliates. Now a vicious and deadly knife fight pursues.
“Your very good Michael. But you won't win.”
The Slayer brings the knife down hard into Michael's left rib cage. Causing him to hunch over in immense pain. The Slayer strikes again this time aiming for the back of his knees, bringing Michael down. He cries out in excruciating pain.
In the corner of his eye, he sees the Slayer standing above him. Without thought he brings his arm up jabbing the knife into the Slayers family jewels. He howls in agony like a wounded wolf. Michael doesn't hesitate as he pierces the knife into his chest. Looking at his watch he sees its 11:58. Die you bastard, die.
In an instant Michael's world spins out of control. He's floating through a tunnel of spiraling colors. Whoa, what is this? He thinks. Did I kill the Dark Slayer?
Six o'clock news announces, “Man wearing a black trench coat found dead from an apparent self-inflicted stab wound. Deceased was clutching a six-inch blade buried deep in his chest. Victims name is Michael Conrad age forty-two.
Brian looks over the body as he whispers, “Damn Michael, I told you, you had to kill him in his realm.
The Dark Slayer lives!!!
Murders at Midnight(Shelly Garrod)
“What the hell!” Michael Conrad mumbles as he rouses himself awake. He's drenched in a cold sweat and covered in blood. In his left hand he clutches a bloody six-inch knife. Instinctively dropping it, he jumps out of bed shaking his head staring at the knife. “How in the f.......!”
Working as a forensic investigator he knows enough to bag all the evidence. He goes to the kitchen to grab a garbage bag as he continues his self-talk. “All the windows and doors were locked last night. I'm sure of it.” He says as he checks each and every window and door. He's in the habit of this routine. His life has been threatened twice by some no good thugs. Testifying against them in court for murders committed because of their involvement as accomplices. “Everything's locked. How in the hell did the intruder get in and not set off the alarm?” He questions. Grabbing the bag and heading back to the bedroom he deposits the bloody objects. He quickly showers and dresses. No time for breakfast. He's not hungry anyway. Grabbing the bag and throwing it in the trunk he heads for the forensics lab.
At 12:40 in the morning the lab is absent of any activity. Good time for him to do his own testing and research. He spends hours running analysis on the blood covered knife and clothes. He runs the findings through every data base provided to him. Nothing. One good thing the blood is not his. But then whose blood, is it?
It's now 4:30. Forensic lab technicians and laboratory analyst start arriving at 5:00. He must act as if nothing is wrong. Putting on his lab coat he heads to his department. It's an uneventful day. Same tedious work. Except for his research of course.
Once home from a very stressful day brought on by his own stressors, he throws a TV dinner in the mic and grabs a beer. Running threw his mind the evenings and days events he's at a standstill as to what has recently happened.
He pops into the corner 7-11 and grabs a strong black Colombian Roast heavy cream. The night is cool and crisp. Not many people roaming at 11:55 in the late evening but he felt like he needed a walk. As he continues down a dimly lit sidewalk, he stops stone cold in his tracks. A figure bundled up in a long mink type coat is strolling the pavement. Suddenly out of nowhere a dark sedan, squeals up next to the curb. A person dressed in black from hat to shoes slowly exits the vehicle, he grabs the girl.
She screams.
“Hey! Stop! Leave that woman alone! he bellows as he runs to her. In his process of movement, he can't reach her in time. He watches as a shiny object is rammed into her chest. The man quickly departs back in the car and the driver speeds away, burning rubber as it makes a sharp turn around the corner.
Reaching the woman, he crouches down on his knees. The woman in her twenties is bleeding profusely. Her breathing is labored. The knife is protruding from her heart. “Don't pull it out.” He whispers to himself.
“Help me, please.” A voice barely audible escapes her lips.
There's a hospital four blocks from here, he's got to get her there fast. Picking her up and caring her he sprints as fast as he possibly can. Out of breath and exhausted he arrives at the automatic sliding glass doors of the hospital. Looking through the glass he notices there's no one around. There's a couple of wheelchairs lined in the hall. If he can get her to a chair and quickly leave without being noticed someone will come to her aid. He can't bring attention to himself. All the evidence will point to him. He must do this and do it fast. Walking to the doors, they quickly slide open. Stepping through he carefully places her in one of the unoccupied chairs. Turning and heading back for the doors, he hears, “Stop sir! You must check the patient in! Sir, wait!” That's the last he hears as he slips into the darkness. He dares not bring attention to himself. Once out of sight he glances back at the girl. The knife. Where's the knife? It's gone. The girl is lying on the floor face up. No one is around. The voice in his head tells him run. He runs. And fast.
Brrrring! Brrrrring! Michael is startled awake by the blaring of his alarm clock only to be drenched in blood and sweat. The bloody knife plastered in his hand.
Not again. Now his head is spinning. For a second time he bags the evidence, showers. Throws the bag in the trunk. He heads back inside and pours himself a triple shot of Bourbon. “I need this.” He mumbles.
In the car he drives absent minded. Thinking only of the past forty-eight hours. He's got to figure this mess out. There must be an explanation, He just hasn't found it yet, but he will. He needs help to find out what is going on.
Back at the lab he corners his best friend and co-worker Brian.
“Hey, man, want to stop at Bernie's for pizza and some brew?”
“Sure, meet up with you after work.”
They both head to their separate labs to finish out their day.
Michael orders pizza and a pitcher of beer before Brian arrives.
“Hey, man I need your help.”
“What's up dude?”
“We need to talk.”
“Hey, alright man.”
“I've got to tell you something, but you can't tell anyone.”
“Promise dude. Bring it on.”
Michael reveals to his friend everything that has happened.
“Wow, so you're saying you wake up with blood on your clothes holding a bloody knife?”
Michael guzzles down a mug of cold brew. “That's what I'm saying man. I don't remember any of it. The knife, the blood, it's all a mystery to me. This is the second night it's happened. Yesterday I took the bloody stuff to the forensic lab when no one was around and ran some tests. One thing I know for sure is the blood is not mine. So, what the hell happened man? Did I kill someone and don't remember it?”
“No, Mike. I know you too well. You couldn't kill anyone.”
“Then explain it to me!”
“Give me everything. I have access to a special department unknown to many including you. I will run some more extensive tests. We'll find an answer. I promise you.”
“Not sure what else you can do. I ran it through everything known in our data base and came up blank. No recent Jane or John Does. No reports of recent murders.”
“Let's enjoy the pizza and beer. I'll take care of it.”
Both men were feeling pretty tipsy when they left the bar. In the parking lot they gripped their shaking hands, pulled themselves to each other and gave each other a slap on the shoulder.
“It'll be all right dude.” Brian slurred.
“See you in the morning man.”
Once home Michael, too wasted and dog-tired to do anything else, stripped out of his clothes, hit the pillow and passed out.
Walking into the all-night cafe' he has his choice of tables. The place is empty of patrons at 11:55 except for one old man at the corner booth. He chooses a table in front of the window.
“Hi mister. What can I get for you?”
“Bring me a mug of your strongest coffee with double cream and a Tuna on Rye.”
“Chips or fries?”
“Ah, give me some fries.”
“Coming up shortly sir.”
“Thanks mam.”
With nothing in particular on his mind he looks out into the vast darkness only dimly lit by the amber lights from the lampposts lining the streets. An ambulance blares its siren as it speeds down the road and abruptly turns the corner. It's siren instantly stops but lights can still be seen flashing. He watches as an old homeless drunk staggers down the concrete path. Swiftly out of nowhere a dark sedan pulls to a halt next to the curb. Anticipating what might happen next, he's already out the door and walking towards the old man. Pure shock strikes him as he sees a man in black step out of the car holding something in his hands. He raises his arms above his head and comes down hard striking the drunk with something. The old man falls to the ground.
“Hey!” He hollers.
The man in black turns and waves then quickly gets in the car and they speed off.
When he gets to the man his body is lifeless but he's still alive. The knife just missed his juggler vein.
“Help me. I can't breathe.”
“Who was that?”
The old man shakes his head. “Help me.”
How in the hell am I going to help him out here? He questions. Looking up and sees that the ambulance is still close by. Quickly he runs to the corner. Oh, great the ambulance is parked on the side of the road. There's a gurney on the sidewalk. Obviously awaiting its patient. Well, news to them. They're going to have a different patient.
He runs back to the old man. Half carrying, half dragging the homeless man to the awaiting gurney. Hoisting him up he flops him down hard on the hard surface. Knife sticking out of his neck. He checks for a pulse and breathing. There is none. He's dead. I'm out of here.
Michael wakes just as his alarm begins to sound Brrri.
“No! Damn! This has to stop! Blood again covers everything. And again, he's holding a blood-soaked knife.
“Here Comes the Sun,” Michael's phone rings out the words to a Beatle's song which brings him out of la la land.
“Hey, Michael its Brian. Call in sick and meet me at my apartment. I have some information. We gotta talk now.”
No time to bag anything. For some reason he doesn't think it matters anyway. He takes a hot shower to relax his muscles. He's not sure why he hurts so much. He hasn't been to the gym in months. Maybe that's why.
Brian met him at the door with a beer. “You're going to need this.”
“What's up man?”
“You might want to sit down. Because you're not going to believe it. But you have to.
“Remember when I said I have access to things no one else does?'
“Ya, sure.”
“Well, I found something. Hold on to your hat.”
“Come on man, quit stalling. Give it to me straight.”
“The murders that are occurring are happening while you are sleeping. You are witnessing them. He has invaded your dreams.”
“Who's he? How can he do that? It's impossible.”
“The man you see in your dreams is he wearing black?”
“Ya, he's dressed in all black. Like a black shadow.”
“That's what I thought. He's known as The Dark Slayer. He kills at random. He lives in the dream realm. He has invited you in. He wants you dead because you've witnessed his killings. Anyone who tries to stop him or help his victims will die. He will wait for you until your next dream.”
“How do you know about him?”
“Dr. Ashinoff specializes in dream analysis. He is the only one who has seen first-hand the dreamer in the dream realm. He has also witnessed the killing of the dreamer by the Dark Slayer. The dreamer dies in his sleep but is murdered in his dream. I know this is very confusing. It's a lot to take in right now. No one has been able to kill him in his realm before they are killed.”
“Holy shit! Why me?”
“We don't know. All we know is that you must kill him in the dream realm. Whatever you do, don't wake up while you're killing him.”
“Dumb question, what happens if I wake up?”
“Don't know. But I don't have a good feeling about it.”
“What if I say no?”
“You can't say no. He's in your dreams and you're in his dream realm. Nothing will change until he's dead. You must kill him at exactly midnight. That's the time he kills his victims. One of you will die at midnight.”
“Damn.”
That night sleep didn't come easy for two reasons. One, he didn't want to sleep. Two, he had too much on his mind to sleep. But eventually the sandman came. Last he looked at the clock was 11:45.
“So, Michael, you think you can take me on and succeed. Think again.” A voice echoes. The Dark Slayer announces his presence.
Michael finds himself standing in the middle of the street clutching a six-inch blade knife standing thirty yards from the killer. Slowly he feels himself being drawn to him. He tries to retreat but can't. Now he's standing within a few feet of him.
“Anytime you're ready Michael. Show me what you've got. I'll let you take the first lunge; it will be your last.”
“NOOOOO!” Lunging forward he strikes the Slayer in the arm.
“Very good, Michael.”
The Slayer retaliates. Now a vicious and deadly knife fight pursues.
“Your very good Michael. But you won't win.”
The Slayer brings the knife down hard into Michael's left rib cage. Causing him to hunch over in immense pain. The Slayer strikes again this time aiming for the back of his knees, bringing Michael down. He cries out in excruciating pain.
In the corner of his eye, he sees the Slayer standing above him. Without thought he brings his arm up jabbing the knife into the Slayers family jewels. He howls in agony like a wounded wolf. Michael doesn't hesitate as he pierces the knife into his chest. Looking at his watch he sees its 11:58. Die you bastard, die.
In an instant Michael's world spins out of control. He's floating through a tunnel of spiraling colors. Whoa, what is this? He thinks. Did I kill the Dark Slayer?
Six o'clock news announces, “Man wearing a black trench coat found dead from an apparent self-inflicted stab wound. Deceased was clutching a six-inch blade buried deep in his chest. Victims name is Michael Conrad age forty-two.
Brian looks over the body as he whispers, “Damn Michael, I told you, you had to kill him in his realm.
The Dark Slayer lives!!!
- Share this story on
- 8
Charlene Soper
04/28/2024Like this story, loved the ending, I wasn't expecting it .keep me in supence to the end.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
04/28/2024Hey thanks Char. Glad I could throw you off with that unexpected ending. I did my job as an author. Thanks for reading.
Blessings, Shelly
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Cheryl Ryan
03/14/2024This story grips you and takes you along on the adventure.
I see the hints of potential episodes in the future too at the end. I can't wait to read more about Dark Slayer.
Thank you for sharing!
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
03/14/2024Hi Cheryl, glad you liked the story. Yes, I left it open so I could continue with the Dark Slayer. Thanks again for reading and leaving a comment. It's much appreciated. More Dark Slayer coming soon.
Blessings, Shelly
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Joel Kiula
03/14/2024This would make a great box office movie story. Have you ever tried or thought to write a script for a movie maybe?
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
03/14/2024Hi Joel, thanks for taking the time to read and comment on my story. Much appreciated. Oh, my, never thought this story was good enough for a movie. I guess that's always an option. Glad you enjoyed the story. More Dark Slayer in the making.
Blessings, Shelly
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Amy Haggerty
06/01/2023Wow I'm impressed I felt like I was there its so detailed (also just posted Subject 87-Z) Amazing work sent chills down my spine!
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
12/22/2023Thanks for reading and leaving a comment Amy. I'm glad you enjoyed the story.
Blessings Shelly
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Victoria Jimenez
03/27/2023Yea it was inspiring please check out my book Its horror + romance
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
03/27/2023Hi Victoria, thank you for reading and commenting on my story. It's much appreciated. I look forward to reading your story.
Blessings, Shelly
Help Us Understand What's Happening
BEN BROWN
03/27/2023Awesome! That was so amazing. It would make a good film. Well done for being todays star.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
BEN BROWN
03/28/2023I think a whole series of them would be amazing.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
03/27/2023Thanks Ben. This story just came to me. It was very easy to right. Some stories I struggle with the story line, but not this one. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thinking about a part two. What do you think?
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Lillian Kazmierczak
03/26/2023Wow, Shelly that was great! You rally channeled your Dean Koontz for this one. Lots of aftion and mystery. The ending had afantastic twist. Congratulations on short story star of the day!
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
03/27/2023Ah, thanks Lillian. You always leave such encouraging words. I appreciate your kind comments. Glad you enjoyed the story. Thinking about writing a part two. What do you think?
Help Us Understand What's Happening
JD
03/26/2023Intriguing murder mystery, Shelly. Well done. Happy short story star of the day! : )
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
03/27/2023I always feel so honored when one of my stories is chosen for star of the day. Thank you. This story came to me easily unlike some of my other ones that I struggle with. So easy infact that I might write a part two. After all the Slayer is still alive. Thanks again JD and I'm glad you enjoyed the story.
Blessings, Shelly
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Resy
03/16/2023This was a very interesting and enjoyable story.Please continue writing stories you are very good at it.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
03/16/2023Thank you so much Resy. I appreciate your kind words. I will continue to write stories I hope you will enjoy. Thank you for reading my stories.
Blessings Shelly
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Resy
03/16/2023Keep sharing your talent
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
03/09/2023Thanks Kim. Your inspiring comments are always appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to read my Stories.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kristine Hoffman
03/04/2023Had me on the edge of my seat. I really wish the ending was different..slayer would have died. And Michael dreams would have gone on to like a kidnapper .Stories could have poured out of that ending. But I love it.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
03/04/2023Glad you liked the story Kristine. I was contemplating different endings and settled for this one. But maybe there will be a sequel.
Blessings Shelly
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
03/02/2023Thank you, Linda, for your words of encouragement. If you do an author search and type in my name, you will see other stories in this genre that I think you may enjoy reading. Thanks again.
Blessings Shelly
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Achu biju
03/01/2023Suspenseful tale mam ! The ending was shocking, A engaging story for fans of suspenese and mystery like me. Waiting for more stories like this.
Thank you
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Achu biju
03/05/2023Yes Ma'am I have read that stories its really thrilling waiting for more stories like this .
Thank you ma'am Have a great day!
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Shelly Garrod
03/01/2023Thank you so much for your enlightening comments. Please go to my page you may see some stories you might like. I think you would enjoy 'Mysterious Murders parts 1&2', 'Murder Times Two' , 'Deadly Hunting Trip'. Enjoy!
Blessings Shelly
COMMENTS (14)